Why do Asians really get straight A's? - Project Gutenberg Consortia ...
Why do Asians really get straight A's? - Project Gutenberg Consortia ...
Why do Asians really get straight A's? - Project Gutenberg Consortia ...
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light up the incense— provided to each of us earlier— in order to pay our respects, as is<br />
customary at an Asian funeral. We approach the tall altar table, constructed of solid rosewood<br />
in a dark cherry matte finish, topped with two bowls of fruit and good-luck candy, and a big<br />
picture of Grand Ma in the middle. Right below the altar is an urn, full of burned joss paper<br />
and prayer money, in order to provide Grand Ma with sufficient income in the afterlife. I think<br />
to myself, What could Grand Ma possibly buy in heaven? A BMW? A Big Mac? Cigarettes?<br />
That's what got her in this mess in the first place! Even after death, Asian people can't let go<br />
of their obsession with money.<br />
Thereafter placing the lit incenses in the burner, we move towards the obligatory<br />
<strong>do</strong>nation box, as money is always offered to show respect to the family of the deceased,<br />
supposedly to help defray the costs of the funeral. I say “ supposedly ” because that's the<br />
same thing I've been told about giving cash at Asian weddings—“ to help defray the costs ” ;<br />
the same thing I've been told about giving cash at Asian tea ceremonies—“ to help defray the<br />
costs ” ; the same thing I've been told about giving cash at New Year's—“ to help defray the<br />
costs ” ; the same thing I've been told about giving cash at every, single Asian ceremony—<br />
even for a ceremony that celebrates an Asian baby being alive for just a few months! I hope<br />
you are starting to see the pattern here: for every occasion, there's money to be made. No<br />
one wants to pay for the costs so make someone else pay for it, plus, you'll likely end up<br />
making a profit, which is <strong>really</strong> the objective anyway, because it's always about the money.<br />
Bo leads us towards the front row, where the seats are completely empty. It's surprising<br />
that my other relatives haven't shown up yet. After sitting for a while, I start to <strong>get</strong> dizzy from<br />
the spuming smoke, coming from all that burned incense, my contact lenses beginning to dry<br />
up as a result. Jordan hits me on my left arm because I'm sitting too close to her— what love<br />
from my little sister. Everyone else around the room is quiet— too quiet— probably meditating,<br />
waiting for the sermon to begin. All of the sudden, I hear several ladies crying out, wailing as<br />
loud as they can, like it's a competition and the prize is a pot of cash— literally. It's considered<br />
good luck in Asian culture to wail as loud as possible, just in case the deceased has left a<br />
large fortune, all the riches going to the loudest. Fake crying for money; these ladies should<br />
consider a career in Hollywood with their affectation. And the Oscar goes to...<br />
As if this isn't bad enough, all of the lady guests in the room, including those in my<br />
family, are dressed up entirely in designer apparel, carrying brand name hand bags, flaunting<br />
glittering jewelry from head to toe and wearing full facial makeup as if they are about to <strong>do</strong> a